


Bard and His Rather Suddenly Exciting Life

by Brynhildr



Series: 40 Days Of Middle Earth [18]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff, Gen, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 19:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13933605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brynhildr/pseuds/Brynhildr
Summary: Bard is called before the elven king... It changes everything.





	Bard and His Rather Suddenly Exciting Life

Bard was not a fan of the forest.

Normally Bard stayed close to the shore with his barge, his bow in hand for... Whatever it was that set his nape hairs tingling and standing on end. Spiders, some said in the tavern. Or wolves. Bard just felt the unease of being watched from the darkness surrounding the trees.

So walking through the forest with a single elven guide was not exactly high on his list of things he would like to be doing right now.

He had entered the Woodland Realm only once previously: the day he became the official bargeman to the Woodland Realm from the Long Lake. On that day he had traveled with the former bargeman up the river and through the forest on a winding path to reach what must be a side entrance to the palace proper. They entered, he signed a few papers, then they left and he had been able to go back home and feed his children.

Today was different.

The guide was tense. His hand resting steadily on a knife hilt as they silently walked the path. The air was thick and still and the darkness seemed to close in on them, even though it was barely midday.

Suddenly the trees parted and Bard found himself looking in awe upon the front gates of the  elves' kingdom. It was stunning. Stone carved to look like massive trees formed the pillars. The gate itself was open and he could see the lofty halls beyond. The path formed a  bridge over the rushing of the river, fed by small waterfalls. Birds flew all over; finches nested in small junctions of tree limbs, larks and sparrows flitted around the battlements, and a lone chickadee seemed to be causing a guard grief: cheeping at his head and tugging at his hair.

Bard tore his attention away from the birds and entered the gates steadily. A stern looking elf stepped forward to meet him.

"You are the bargeman?" The elf asked. At Bard's nod, the elf gestured. "Please, follow me." 

The two walked through a series of twisting corridors and narrow suspended walkways  until the man realized he was standing before the throne and the tall reclining figure seated there was actually the king. The elf who had lead him announced him to the king in Sindarin before backing away and leaving Bard alone, looking up to the throne. The king sat in silence for several moments before he leaned forward in his seat.

"You are the one who ferries the wine barrels up and down the river, Bard of Laketown."

The king's voice was melodious, deeper than the man expected. Bard swallowed in nervousness.

"Yes, I am. For several years now." Bard responded.

"Over that time, how many barrels do you regularly deliver and depart with on a weekly basis?" The elf asked nonchalantly, bud Bard could see the edge in his eyes.

"It varies, depending on the time of year, but roughly 25-30 barrels. More if there is a festival or solstice." Bard nearly jumped backward when the elven king stood suddenly and practically flowed down the steps leading up to his throne.

"How many were in your last delivery?" The king asked sharply.

"Twenty six," Bard responded.

"And the time before?" The elf immediately asked as he began circling the man in the center of the room.

"Twenty nine," Bard said in confusion.

"And the time before that?" The elf pushed as he stopped directly in front of Bard.

"Twenty three," Bard answered as he took a quick step back. "Is there a problem-"

"Follow me," the king interrupted, turning on his heel with a swish of his robes and striding down the steps. Bard hurried after him in silence, focusing on his footing on the meandering pathways that bridged the underground kingdom. Soon they entered what appeared to be the King's study, Bard sitting before a sturdy looking wooden desk covered in papers and scrolls. The king handed him a thick roll of parchment.

"These are the accounts as sent from my Dorwinian supplier. Galion informed me that the numbers of barrels arriving over the past eight months have not been consistent with the numbers given to us by our suppliers. At first he believed you to be the one commandeering the barrels, but we had you followed and found you not Only innocent of stealing, but most likely getting swindled by the Master of Laketown yourself."

Bard frowned.

"It is true the Master had no kindness toward me, and has also made it difficult for me to find with enough to feed my children. But this job pays enough for my family to stay fed and clothed."

Thranduil frowned and looked Bard up and down, obviously contesting that he was properly clothed.

"Unless you have a dozen children, your wages should keep you more than well fed," the elf frowned. "But that is not why you were called here. I need you to search for those who are making off with several dozen barrels of my wine."

Bard sighed and rubbed his temple.

"It is almost certainly the Master," he said frustratedly.

"How do you know?" The king asked, sitting back in his chair.

"Because the Master lives like a king while the rest of us are patching holes in our rags, hoping not to freeze at night over the water. Oftentimes parents go hungry so that their children might eat. Those of us not under his thumb are constantly watched and even meeting friends in the street is considered conspiracy. The only reason the Master has not wrapped me in chains and thrown me into the lake is this job and the revenue it brings him. I know he takes a  percentage of my wage as a tax, and I must pay a fine to carry anything back with the empty barrels, but I need to be there for my children. They are all I have and getting myself thrown into prison would leave them all vulnerable and I cannot risk it."

Thranduil sat back and stared at the bargeman in a new light. 

"I will write to the Master. This will be taken care of by my soldiers. The Master will never know you were involved." 

"Thank you, my Lord, but it really won't matter. He will continue to pursue me and my family no matter what I do." Bard said hopelessly.

"How old are your children?" Bard was startled by question.

"My youngest daughter is three, the oldest not even nearing adulthood, and my son is in between them in age."

"And your wife?" Tranduil asked.

"She passed at Tilda's birth," he said softly.

"I am sorry for your loss," the elf said. They sat quietly for a moment.

"If that is all you needed me for, I should be returning home before it is too late. My children will be worried." He stood and bowed his head to the king.

"Galion will see you to the gate," the king said in dismissal. Bard left with a nod and the king watched him go.

"Tauriel," he called and the red headed elf stepped into the room. 

"Yes, my Lord," she said.

"Have him followed. See that he comes to no harm within our borders and without."

Tauriel blinked in surprise.

"You wish to send a guard to Laketown?" She asked incredulously. The king nodded.

"I will see it done," she said with a bow and left.

.....

"My Lord, Bard the Bargeman is here to request an audience with you."

Thranduil looked up in surprise at Galion's announcement. It had been several months since he had seen the man.

"Let him in," he responded, setting his book down and standing.

"My Lord, I come with gifts of gratitude from my children," the man said after formal salutations were properly observed. He pulled a small package from the inside of his coat.

"That is unnecessary, but I thank you."

Thranduil opened the package to see a floral patterned embroidered handkerchief.

"From my eldest, Sigrid," Bard said smiling. 

The king pulled out a small bracelet made of knotted colored yarn.

"Bain made that one."

The king looked down at the package and found a child's drawing of what may have been a person and a large bear... Or spider.

"That's from Tilda, my youngest child. I believe it is supposed to be you, holding a kitten."

"A kitten?" The king asked. Bard reached into his inner pocket one more and withdrew a tiny grey kitten.

"She was the runt of the litter and her mother shunned her. Tilda wanted to keep her, but I was afraid something would happen to her and Tilda would be crushed."

Thranduil looked down at the little ball of fluff and asked, "does she have a name?"

Bard winced.

"Fluffy," he grimaced.The elf king looked down at the little cat, and began to pet it gently on the head until it started to purr.

"Thank you," the elf said softly as he helped lull the kitten back to sleep with a softly hummed song. He looked up to the man standing in front if him.

"Thank you," he gently put the kitten down on his table. He clasped the man gently on the shoulder and drew him closer for a started hug.

"Thank you," Thranduil repeated as Bard awkwardly pat him on the back.

"Yes, well. How about we drink some of that sweet wine I'm always hauling back and forth." Bard joked.

"A good idea. Galion, bring us some wine and light refreshments." The king ordered. "Sit, we will eat."

And they did.

.......

Slowly a friendship formed between the unlikely pair. Thranduil showed Bard around his kingdom on his visits and Bard ferried several homemade presents from his children back and forth between the two realms.

"Why are you so sad?" Thranduil asked after watching the man stare off into nothingness for several minutes. 

"It was Tilda's birthday last week. I just wish my wife had been there to see it. She grows more everyday."

The king nodded.

"It was the same with my Legolas after my wife was torn from this life by orcs. Watching them grow is almost painful, but exceedingly happy at the same time."

Bard laughed.

"Why are you-"

"It is rather silly, isn't it? Two worn out fathers commiserating over their lot in life. We are more alike than I ever thought." 

Bard turned to look at the elven king and blinked at him a few times before reacing up and capturing the King's lips with a soft kiss. Thranduil gasped in shock but quickly returned the press of lips against his own.

"Are you leaving tonight or tomorrow morning?" The king asked when they finally broke apart for air.

"Give me a reason to stay, and I will." Bard said before ducking his head back down and claiming his lips again.

"Stay," the king whispered as he clasped the man's hand and pulled him from his office and into his bedroom.

Bard stayed the night.

.....

Then there were dwarves in barrels and dragon fire and war and carnage and so much death. 

Bard found Thranduil standing alone in the battlefield looking over the rocky plain full of dead orcs, elves, men, and dwarves.

"So much death," Thranduil spoke after some time as the two of the surveyed the bloodied field, gently filling with snow. Bard gently turned the elf around and gestured with his arm to the elven tents that had sprung up everywhere.

"So much life." 

Bard kissed the side of Thranduil's face where he knew the elf's dragon scar to be.

"We survived, and we will continue, stronger than we were before. Three kingdoms united in the East. It was worth it."

He grabbed Thranduil by his jaw and kissed him with all the love and comfort he could muster. Slowly he felt the king relax. 

"Let's go find your children," Thranduil said after a time. "They should not be alone right now."

"You are right, as usual." Bard swatted him playfully. "Just don't give my daughter an elk and all shall be well."

"What if I gave you an elk?" The elf teased.

Even Oin heard the startled yelp Bard made when he found his very own elk inside the building his children had claimed as theirs for the time being.

"DA! Tauriel said we get to keep her!" Bain called out as they approached.

"I hate you," Bard said as he looked in horror at the elk inside the house's kitchen.

"No, you love me," Thranduil teased while picking up Tilda and setting her on the gentle elk's back. Bard felt his face soften at the sight.

"Yes, I do," Bard said before swinging around to the other side of the elk and kissing the King soundly. "I really do."

......

Bard and Thranduil were wed the next spring, the party lasting days, full of dancing elves, singing men, and drunken dwarves.

It was prefect.

....

Tilda named the elk Walnut.

 Thranduil just rolled his eyes and laughed as Bard groaned every time she interrupted their lovemaking my sticking her head through the window.

Everything was nearly perfect, but they wouldn't have it another way.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! Falling asleep again. Please excuse typos... I deleted the ones I could find (if you find any strange words scattered throughout, let me know so I can fix them).
> 
> I have no idea where this came from. I how you enjoyed!


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